


Mistletoe

by pickleplum



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Anchorage Shatterdome, Bisexual Male Character, Christmas, Christmas Eve, Cute Kids, Domestic Fluff, Family Fluff, Fluff, Gift Giving, Holidays, M/M, Male-Female Friendship, Military Families, Mistletoe, Shatterdome Shenanigans, Single Parents, Ugly Holiday Sweaters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-11 13:12:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8981152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pickleplum/pseuds/pickleplum
Summary: Stacker and Herc begin a pleasant holiday together. Once the kids stop arguing, of course.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RoryKurago](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoryKurago/gifts).



Stacker and Mako stand on the Anchorage Shatterdome's helipad, watching the transport from the mainland come in for a landing.

It touches down; the door opens and—

"Mako! Wait!"

—she's off across the tarmac like a shot and nearly knocks her and Chuck into the slush.

Chuck squawks and squirms.

Herc, Max tucked under an arm, eases around them and picks his way across the tarmac, shoulders hunched under the rotor wash.

Stacker bows, greets, "Ranger Hansen."

"Sta—" Herc clears his throat. "Marshal."

"Only until my quarters."

Herc's cheeks go pinker than the weather or being ginger can account for.

"Shall we step inside?"

Herc grunts, hollers, "Chuck!"

Continued chatter from the kids.

"Mako, it's time to go inside."

She zips—

"Lemme grab Max!"

—skids to a halt next to Herc.

Chuck gathers up the dog; Max woffles and licks his face; Mako grabs Chuck's elbow and drags—

"Not so fast!"

—them through the door.

Stacker shakes his head.

Herc sighs, gets the door, follows Stacker through.

"How're you ...?"

"Busy."

"Yea, uh, of course. I meant your h—?"

"Later."

"Right. Sorry."

Stacker grunts.

"How much sugar has she had?"

"Tamsin sent her a hot cocoa recipe."

"That she's been drinking all day."

Stacker sighs.

The door to their suite is ajar.

""He's **not** wearing those!""

""The floors are so **cold** here!""

Herc stops just over the threshold.

""He looks stupid!""

""He **likes** them! Look!""

""Woof!""

They line up their shoes on the entry rug (unlike Mako and Chuck's), hang their coats on hooks.

Stacker locks up, lets the 'marshal' drop from the set of his spine.

Max panting happily, high-steps over.

Herc looks to Stacker.

He shrugs. "Mako thought he'd be more comfortable with slippers."

Herc snorts a laugh.

Max _whuff_ s, wags his tail.

Chuck stomps over, grumbling, crouches beside Max, picks up a paw, tugs—

Mako jaw set, shoulders tight, looms directly behind him.

"Leave 'em," says Herc.

—releases the foot, still booted. "But—"

"It'll be easier on him."

Mako smugs.

"I'll just carry him."

Stacker gives her a Look.

"Just ... just leave 'em on, Chuck."

She smugs a little more quietly.

Chuck huffs, heaves himself to his feet—Max in his arms—and tramps to the bedrooms.

Mako skips along after him.

Herc and Stacker sigh together, exchange a look and a smile.

Snow drifts down.

"Cocoa?" offers Stacker.

"That'd be great, thanks."

Stacker leads them to the kitchenette, hovers in front of the sink.

Herc leans against the counter. "So ...." Shifts his feet. "Your health?"

"Stable. Treatment seems to be working."

"Tams?"

"Same, but not well enough to travel for the holidays."

Herc rubs the back of his neck.

"She **did** send a gift for you, though." Offers the wrapped parcel.

Herc raises an eyebrow.

Stacker nudges him in the gut with a corner.

He accepts, picks open an end, peers inside—"You've gotta be kidding me."—slides out a truly atrocious jumper, complete with a line of dancing things which might be reindeer.

"I have a matching one."

"You're not wearing—"

Stacker sighs.

"You're gonna wear it."

"Tams wants pictures."

Herc laughs weakly.

Stacker turns to the hotplate and the bubbling pot of hot cocoa.

"Tell me she didn't send some for the kids."

"She didn't." Stacker offers a steaming cup.

Herc accepts, sips—

"She sent one for the dog."

—chokes, somehow manages to swallow.

"You should've heard her cackling over the phone."

"I can—" Herc coughs. "I can imagine."

"I'm going to go put mine on. I **expect** you to be wearing yours when I get back."

"Yes, sir."

"Not in here, Herc."

"Old habits." Grimaces at the jumper, mutters, "The things I'll do ...."

"The things **we'll** do," amends Stacker, brushing Herc's arm on the way to his room.

It's but the work of a moment to thread himself through the horrible jumper, straighten the points of his collar, and check for five o'clock shadow.

None found, he strolls to the living area where Herc's on the sofa curled over his mug and wearing the hideous thing. "You look **awful** in that."

"Probably Tams's plan." Side-eyes. "You can't look much better."

Stacker snorts a laugh as he settles in against Herc's side. "Probably her plan."

A rattle and whirring from a far corner.

Stacker asks for patience.

Snow falls gently.

Herc nudges his arm. "You've gone all domestic on me."

Stacker takes the lights and the tree and the presents underneath.

"Where'd the ornaments come from?"

"Tamsin." Sips. "Can't you tell?"

"I **was** wondering about the surfboards."

They sip.

"Stacks?"

"Hmm?"

"Why's it snowing? Inside?"

"Because it's Christmas Eve and—"

_Foomph!_

"—this base is full of Canadians and engineers who can build snow machines out of paper clips and and bolts."

Herc ruffles his hair, wipes his palm on his thigh. "S'pose we should be glad they don't have a _Brave_."

"I give thanks for that every day."

Herc smiles over his mug, eyes crinkling, and sips.

Stacker takes his own swig, hums contently.

"The tree and stuff make it cozy in here."

"The company adds a certain something, too." Nestles closer, whispers in Herc's ear. "I've missed you."

"Same—"

_FOOMPH._

Snowflakes float across Herc's cup.

Stacker's in the same boat.

"You want me to?"

"Please," sighs Stacker.

Herc unfolds himself, follows the snowy draught back to the source.

Stacker uses the moment to sprawl a bit and drape his arm along the back of the couch. He takes another drink of cocoa.

"Looks like they've tapped the mains, so I'm not touching the wires." Herc eases himself back into his place.

Stacker sneaks his hand forward until its rests lightly on his shoulder. "Good call. It'll run out of material eventually."

"We hope."

"Even Canadians can't make a perpetual snow machine."

Herc laughs, lets his head fall back against Stacker's arm.

Stacker basks.

"Huh."

"Hmm?"

"Is that what I think it is?" Herc points to the ceiling.

Stacker's smile bubbles up. "If you think it's mistletoe, you're right."

"Wouldn't do to ignore it, would it now?"

"No, it wouldn't."

**Author's Note:**

> Hopefully this is saccharine enough to offset some of the awfulness of this 2016 winter holiday season.
> 
> Made much more beautiful by a beta-ing by artificiallifecreator.


End file.
